


Graduation

by DarkShadeless



Series: Overseer Sar [27]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Humor, Shenanigans, my terrible sense of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:24:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: Undeniably, there are some traits teachers pass on to their students as they take example.(Half the Alliance may or may not wish that weren’t the case.)





	Graduation

 

 

“ _Are you out of your bloody mind!”_

“I don’t see how it’s any of your frelling business if I want to take a walk, Rako!”

“It’s my _frelling business_ when you’re trying to _make your leg fall off_! _Was one time not enough for you!”_

 

Envela watches her former classmates and fellow members of her unit go for each other’s throats, _again_ , and she can feel her eyebrow twitch.

Juiinta is wobbling dangerously on her freshly installed cybernetic limb, not that that _stops her_ , while Rako proves, once more, that he is the junior healer with the shortest fuse their division has to boast.

She honestly wishes they would just _fuck_ already. Or cuddle aggressively, or beat each other up or whatever else floats their boat, as long as she doesn’t have to _see_ _and hear it_.

At this rate she’s going to get wrinkles before the year is out and then she will have to _kill_ someone.

That will destroy her perfectly unmarred records. Or her manicure. Probably both.

_I should get that fixed. Having a hangnail every time I tear someone’s throat out is such a pain. Didn’t mother have something for that?_

She’ll have to check up on it. Right after she’s dealt with the problem at hand.

“Stop looking at me.”

Beside her the smallest mouse to ever exist grows even smaller under the faint rumble of her displeasure. _Ugh. Why does he have to be so cute._

If he wants to, Hoshi has the saddest nerf-calf eyes in the galaxy and they belong to a starved, kicked creature that has never known a home and just wants to be _loved_.

It’s sickening.

But at least he has some sense, trying to guilt her into interfering instead of _contemplating suicide_ the way Akonda is doing. She has a fighting chance. That chivalrous moron will become collateral damage and get his furry ass shaved if he sticks his nose in there _._

When Envela isn’t moved, the eyes seem to become even _sadder_. There’s a dangerous wobble somewhere in the proximity of where her heart would be, if she had one. Which she _doesn’t_. She’s immune to his bantha shit.

_Completely._

… this would be so much easier if Hoshi expected her to be some sort of hero. If he did, Envela would laugh in his face and get herself another glass of iced muja juice.

But he doesn’t. He’s trying to get her to make them play nice because he’s honestly convinced she’s the most terrifying person on this base and no one can withstand her.

It’s so _stupidly flattering_ and makes it impossibly hard to disappoint his expectations.

But Envela is _not_ getting between those two, she likes her spleen right where it is. Only she has the sinking feeling if Hoshi starts to scrape the bottom of the barrel on pitifulness she might actually crack ~~~~.

_No. That is not happening. I need a plan B, right now. Diversion and distraction. If all else fails, return to the basics._

“You know, boys,” her faux-thoughtful purr draws both their attention off the catfight that is only increasing in volume. The Force alone knows how their friends manage that without getting winded. They have to be taking pointers in breathing technique from their ex-overseer, “I think I’m going to go nab the rest of the Gumbah pudding while those geniuses are busy flirting. Who’s in?”

 

 


End file.
